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Jonathan Rev
Appearance ~WIP~ Backstory Born in Ambracia, under the poor family of Levin Rev, his Human father, and his Kitsune mother, Janice Rev, his life was one born of tragedy. His mother, weak already from sickness and hunger, did not survive the childbirth but for mere hours after. His father, traumatized by the loss of his life, turned to drinking. Thus, Jonathan was left with a wide range of freedom. He associated himself with urchins and rowdy kids, often pranking others and stealing food from unsuspecting vendors. Not a care in the world ran through Jonathan, making the best out of this life he was thrust into. One day, while he and his crew, a ragtag group of kids age 7 through 13, sat on the docks talking and looking over recent finds, the young Half Kitsune looked towards a ship, The Angelfish, as a man unlike anything he had ever seen stepped out. Two curved blades donned his hips, and he wore an outfit of total extravagance, colors and trinkets adoring it's entirety. He was mesmerized, as the man walked with a swagger he had never seen before. Separating from his friends, he crept towards the boat, hiding behind a box, watching the sailor discuss something with a merchant. Being given a bag of coins, the swashbuckler headed back to his ship, several other humans and such coming out and picking up the merchants wares. In a moment of confusion and haste, Jonathan dove into the box he hid behind, being greeted with the overbearing scent of salt. He felt as he was lifted in the air, and so he held his breath, before wincing and shouting out when he was dropped. He realized his mistake as soon as the box was opened, to the confused look of the deckhands. They called over the flashy man, unknown to Jonathan their captain, and begin talking. The swashbuckler walked over to the boy, a smug grin on his face, a playful look in his eyes. "Little boy, you do not look to be salt. Surely my friend did not plan on selling you, when he didn't tell us of you. What are you doing?" He asked. Jonathan, having known in the past to never get caught, felt fear at the thought of what punishments he might face. "I didn't mean to! I just wanted to look!" "Look at what?" The Swashbuckler ask, smirking. "Your clothes, and your swords. Where did you get them?" The boy was calming down, seeing the man didn't look mad. "Ah, little boy, that is a story I rarely share. Why don't you step out of that box?" And so Jonathan did, and the captain began speaking to him in earnest, telling him that what he did was potentially dangerous, but he was lucky they've yet to take sail. However, Jonathan protested, asking to be allowed on the ship. He wanted to be a sailor. Many chuckles were given by the other crewmates, but the captain gave a genuine smile. "You can stay..." He said, looking over the boy. "...but you will work for it." And work he did. Leaving behind his old life without a threat of regret or thought, he began a life of cleaning and work, performing the chores of the crew. He traveled the sea, seeing sights and visiting cities never before possible for him. As the years went on, and Jonathan grew more able, he began to truly help, managing both the boat and dealing with sales with the other. He was eventually family among them, all under the eager eyes of the captain. One night, the boy was awoken, the captain splashing water on his face. "Up." He said, throwing down a play sword on his bed. "It's time for a lesson." Walking out to the main deck, the captain gave some quick points of advice, which fell deaf on the tired and confused Jonathan, but he was soon awoken when wood cracked along his head. Then, the fight began, for the entirety of 12 seconds before he fell to the deck, panting and exhausted, having failed to strike the captain once. Thus, as you might expect, this continued for sometime, the captain waking the growing teen to spar, and the boy continuing his ship duties. Years continued to roll by, the spars growing lengthier, with hits being struck back and forth with equal tandem. Until, the captain found himself sprawled on his back, giving a chuckle. Acknowledging he had taught him all he could, the captain told him it was time he moved off to the world, to accomplish greater things. Jonathan agreed with a nod, feeling for quite sometime this place wasn't meant for him. At the next city they stopped, he bid his farewells, striking out in the world. Years of dungeon explorations, hasty escape from the law, and the besting of criminals became the norm for Jonathan, until he made his first real mistake. When at a tavern one day, a poor looking beggar, grizzled and in pain, came to him. He immediately walked up to him, speaking adamantly of how he was robbed and abused by a local noble, and how he had heard of Jonathan's talents. After some discussion, and talk of award, the Rogue said he'd sneak in and retrieve the beggars belongings, much to his relief. Night fell, and having been made aware of the manor, he sneaked within. Passing by guards, and being careful of dogs, he entered the nobles room, and seeing no one within entered and looked around. He saw jewelry abound, expensive perfumes and near priceless pictures. His eyes wide with glee and prospect of money, he failed to notice the light that filled the room until it was too late, the noble woman exiting her bathroom in robes, she immediately calling out to her guards. In shock, he scooped up a handful of goods, diving out the window and running into the cover of black. Morning came, and he went to meet the man who employed him, showing off the treasures. Though he expected his fair share, he did not expect the man to melt away, into a body of lifeless grey. Unbeknownst to him, a Changeling, but he wouldn't have to worry long as he was bashed in the head, passing out. Hours later he awoke, having been thrown into a pile of trash, which had saved him as guards patrolled by earlier. Peering out from the alley, he was surprised to see posters of him, in rather good detail, but what was surprising was the lady had spotted his orange fox ears, peering from his hair, and that meant he was actually recognizable. Waiting once more until nightfall, he began to leave the city, going to a tavern he was aware of in the outskirts. Acquiring pen and paper, he decided there was safety in numbers, and he was safer well away from here. He wrote to the Phoenix Guild, an unpopular but powerful group, and inquired about joining. Some weeks later, his letter was returned, having been accepted among their fold. Hiring a carriage, he rode off to a much further city, acquiring a teleportation circle and spending the fee to teleport there. Walking out from a circle, his stomach queasy, is where his true story begins.